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“Did you have fun with the girls?”

“Yeah. They’re nice and scary.”

“Scary how?” I reached forward and placed my hand on top of hers and was pleased when she didn’t pull away.

“I wouldn’t ever want to be on their bad side.”

“Ahh, Stella.”

We were quiet for a few minutes, and the smell of her perfume hit me. Whatever the scent was, it seemed to fit her, and I leaned back against the couch, breathing it in. When I looked to her again, she was smiling.

Since the first time I’d met her, every time I’d been near her and watched her lips move, I wanted to kiss them. Or rub my thumbs across her forehead and smooth out the crease that formed when she was deep in thought. I was stunned to realize that there were several little things that I had already memorized about this woman in such a short time. And that one little kiss we’d had yesterday wasn’t enough, I wasn’t sure if it would ever be enough.

A stray strand of hair fell across her face, and I didn’t fight back the urge to tuck it behind her ear. I rested my thumb on the apple of her cheek as I lightly caressed her face. Without moving my thumb, I stretched my fingers that were cradling her head until I could feel her silky locks of hair. She was gazing deep into my eyes, and I was fucked. I’d fallen hard for Katy, my assistant.

I thought for a moment about telling her everything, was it better for both of us to come clean or wait until she returned the feelings? Fuck, why wasn’t this shit easy? There needed to be some motherfucking handbook.

You want a girl to admit that she likes you, turn to chapter seven.

You want a girl to ask for help, turn to page twelve.

As this point, I was willing to read instructions in Japanese and hire a translator just to get answers.

The first question I’d look up in that manual would be how to admit you had known she was living in one of your model homes. Sure, Elliot from SpyGuys had said that what I was doing was standard video security. But my conscience knew the difference. Once I had seen her, the only security I used it for was my own. I wanted to know that they were safe.

Well, she was wrong for breaking into a house that didn’t belong to her; even if she and her daughter had nowhere else to go.

And, I was wrong for watching her on the surveillance camera as she moved through the house and climbed into bed.

So I offered her a job and a home.

Her smile…Her curves…Wrong has never felt so right.

Now, I want to make the biggest impact yet…I want to make her mine.

Impact is volume 3 in the Iron Orchids Series but may be read and enjoyed as a standalone contemporary romance.

About Danielle

Danielle is a Harley riding romance writer. Most days she can be found in jeans, t-shirts, and pearls (she’s a lady like that).

Danielle writes about men that will open the door for you during the day and throw you against them at night. She loves stories that will make you laugh and fall in love without all of the emotional baggage faced every day in our real lives.

And her talent is the ability to tell the difference between a rye, wheat, corn, or potato vodka in just 1 sip, but she prefers a few glasses just to be certain.